Taylor Rymes.
You must be Dennis Burger.
Thurman Benz.
The astronaut?
Author.
Right, the fantasy books.
The little kid turns into a dragon when he gets all sad.
I write mystery thrillers.
What is it you do?
I'm a literary agent.
This is my client now.
Millie Upton, I'd like you to meet...
Slap me purple, it's Thurman Benz!
Oh!
I am such
a huge fan of yours.
Oh! Your novels are riveting.
They rivet the hell out of me.
Thank you.
Millie's going to be reading at the book launch as well.
Excuse me.
As a fellow writer,
I love the way you weave a story,
the way you peel back the layers, like an onion.
And I love your shoes.
That's great.
Maybe I've read some of your work.
Probably.
I created the Grumpaloo gang.
Oh. Kids books, huh?
What's that supposed to mean?
Well, I just assumed that you were a real writer.
I am a real writer.
No offense.
I'm sure you're very good at what you do,
but, you know,
"Peggy pig eats a pork pie" is not exactly Tolstoy.
Is that so?
Well, what kind of pig would eat pork pie?
That would be cannibalism.
I'll defer to your expertise.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go...
away from you.
Do you know who this Dennis Burger guy is?
I know who a stuck-up puss bucket is.
No offense!
Sync by Alice | www.addic7ed.com
Millie's gone?
Where did she go?
I don't know,
some astronaut, Benz something,
ticked her off.
Millie and Thurman Benz are fighting?
Oh, no. The book launch is in two days.
Will you relax about this book launch.
When my authors get up to read for prospective buyers,
I want them happy and smiling and getting along.
Why are you here anyway?
The agency wants me to baby-sit some writer while he's here.
Some Burger dude.
Joyce!
Denise!
Wonderful to see you.
Taylor, this is Denise Berger,
the author of one of our top-selling cookbooks.
Denise.
I thought you were a dude.
Not now.
Before.
Forgive him, he's, how would you say in French...
Le bonehead.
I'm going to be your chaperone for the next few days.
I thought maybe we could start with dinner tonight.
Great.
You can pick me up at the hotel at 7:00.
A bientot, Joyce.
Oh, I get it now.
Get what?
Why they asked me to keep her company-
She's a woman.
They needed a bit of the old Taylor Rymes charm.
Don't you dare try to make her one of your conquests.
Come on, Joyce, I'm no hip breaker.
Huh?
Hip breaker.
Chair chaser?
Into older women.
What kind of world do you live in?
I'm telling ya, doc,
it took every ounce of restraint I had
not to fold this clown's laundry.
Okay, well, first of all, staples aren't free.
Secondly, why don't you just sit down and tell me what happened.
He called me a dump sack.
I doubt he called you a dump sack.
Well, he said mean stuff.
And then he put me in a headlock.
Millie, we've talked about the dangers of exaggerating.
Like a billion times.
Look, I'm cancelling the reading.
There is no way I am sharing the stage
with that dump sack.
Whoa, let me call Joyce.
We'll see if we can get you and this clown person in the same room.
We'll clear up this whole mess.
Fine, but if that jerk
says one mean thing...
All right, give me that.
I'm sure this is all a big misunderstanding.
Oh, I understood just fine,
this guy thinks he's better than me.
I was merely saying
that kids books shouldn't be held
in the same regard as real literature.
Oh, like, writing a novel is so hard?
"The sun rose over the snow-dusted hilltops..."
Millie...
"...Mary Elizabeth awoke
to find her father draped in lilac..."
I can do that.
I just did!
What can I say that'll get me back to my hotel room?
You are a genius.
You're the greatest writer that ever lived.
Happy?
Great, now that that's taken care of,
we have a huge day coming up,
so why don't we just...
Ow!
She shot an elastic at me.
You're lucky I hid the stapler.
Johnny-no-pictures here
thinks he's so smart because he can write a novel,
well, I'm going to write a novel
that's going to kick his novel's butt!
You just do that.
Oh, I will do that.
I'll see you both at the launch.
Bonsoir, Taylor.
Oh, uh...
Hi.
You look great.
Shall we?
Mais oui.
You can't go wrong with the onion brick.
Just stay away from the lava wings.
I once saw a guy taken out on a stretcher.
You're funny.
I'm serious.
He died.
No!
Oh, wait, they named a bellini after him.
Well, that's classy.
I'm feeling adventurous.
Why don't you order for me?
Okay.
The lady will have the Southern fried sushi burger
with wasabi fries
and I'm going to go for
the Thai BBQ chicken noodle fajita.
Here's to a night of bumpin' fuzzies.
Excuse-moi?
It's the name of the restaurant.
I appreciate you wanting to write a novel,
I'm just saying,
I don't know if you're doing it for the right reasons.
Just proving a point, doc.
No harm done.
Now, I need a title.
"Glorious, sweet, hate-filled revenge."
Nah, that's too long.
I need something short and zippy,
like, "Death Point..."
"Razor Scream..."
"Blood Puddle,"
Look, I'm just saying...
"Mug Lamp!"
Now you're just naming things that you see.
Look, this is a tall order.
You know, writing a novel requires more work than...
Than...
Writing a kid's book?
No. I didn't...
I didn't-I never...
You know, you're right.
You can do whatever you set your mind to.
Well, you want me to stick around,
help you brainstorm ideas?
Thanks, but I think the girls and I have it covered.
Okay, well, you're the writer.
Good luck.
Who needs luck when you've got...
Margaret and Annie, Francesca, Ellen, Gwenevere, Alex,
Parker, Cynthia, Lisa, Ariel,
and Holly.
That was 11.
Good night doc.
Thank you so much for taking me out to dinner.
I'm sure you had better things to do.
What, me? No. No.
This was great.
Listen, tomorrow, I take you out.
I know a superr little bistro nearby.
Sure. I'm easy...
Well, I'm not...
Well, I am, but not...
Yowzers.
Millie's writing a novel?
That's not going to be easy.
They're pretty thick.
Well, it's my job to support her.
What is her book about?
I don't know. Could be about anything.
Stories are everywhere.
Like, what's the headline in the paper?
Boy falls off bike. Sues city.
That's a David and Goliath story.
See? Give me another one.
Uhh...
Oh! Hamster escapes school classroom.
Uh...
"G-force" meets "Shawshank." Easy.
See? We just cranked out two best sellers,
we're not even writers.
Imagine what Millie can do.
I'm hooped.
Hooped how?
Writer's block. I hit the wall.
Okay, well, where are you stuck?
The title. Ooh, bacon!
What's the use? I'm not a writer.
I'm a cartoonist.
You're a great writer. You just need a spark, an idea.
How about Sci-Fi?
Maybe it takes place in outer space.
There's a guy, a courier guy.
One day, he gets a package from the Jupiter sector...
I don't know, doc.
You could call him "rubicon." "Rubicon Jones!"
He delivers dreams!
Stan, we're out of eggs.
I'm on a roll here.
No, you're not. Go get some eggs.
Okay, but we should keep riffing on this.
I think we're coming up with good stuff.
Rubicon...
Jones...
delivers eggs...
Never mind Stan.
Sometimes, he gets these crazy ideas in his head and he can't let it go.
Like the time we went to the Grand Canyon
and he came back home with no pants.
What?
I wanted to take the jeep down,
but he insisted we ride the donkeys
and nobody warned us about the wild dogs.
I think you're kidding yourself.
A sophisticated woman like Denise has taste.
Taste for Taylor is what she's got.
She kissed me.
She's French.
She kisses everybody.
Does she ask everybody out on a second date?
Her treat?
Sounds to me like someone's beggin' to be Taylorized.
I know this is an unreasonable request,
but don't do anything stupid.
I'm telling you,
the lady's got a bad case of the Taylors.
Well, I bet there's a shot for that.
But I don't understand,
why did the dogs keep chasing you
after he threw the wiener away?
The wiener juice had soaked into his pants.
That's what they were after.
This stuff is gold!
I've been thinking about Rubicon Jones.
Maybe he needs a side kick,
like a feisty tomboy or a super intelligent chimp!
Too late! I'm going in a different direction.
Oh, okay. Well, that's good, too.
Anna and I will leave you to it. Anna?
Uh... Millie needs my help...
With spelling.
Doesn't her computer have a spellchecker?
I don't trust it.
I also don't trust my webcam- that's why I put tape over it.
Anna!
Red squiggly line. Chop chop.
Oh! Back to work.
So, what should we do after this?
After this?
I thought you'd just wanted to get back to your hotel.
You have the big launch tomorrow.
Taylor, I am a big girl.
I can go all night long.
I bet you can.
Mademoiselle Berger,
Chef Antoine prepare quelque chose de speciale
pour vous ce soir.
Ainsi, vous n'aurez pas besoin de celle-ci.
C'est trop.
Are we getting kicked out?
No, no, no, no, no.
The chef is preparing
something special for us.
That is the classiest thing I have ever seen.
And I've been to Rio.
How's it going in there?
Good. Hey, remember that time we were at the fair
and we got stuck on top of the Ferris wheel
and you got scared and tried to climb down?
I didn't get scared,
I had just drank 42 ounces of grape soda...
Right... But how did you get hung up?
My belt loop got stuck on the safety bar.
Right!
That's why they had to cut you out of your pants.
Thanks, honey.
I was gonna climb back up and rescue you.
Maybe you should start with the birthday cake.
It's the candles that start the fire.
Oh, you're right.
Because, otherwise, it seems like his pants go up in flames for no reason.
Geez, he has a lot of trouble with his pants, doesn't he?
Yeah.
You know what, why don't you just throw these ones out
and then I'll rewrite it when I get home.
Okay.
I dozed off there for a bit. How's the book going?
Millie has two chapters written.
Two hilarious chapters, thanks to you, doc.
Well, I'm always here to help.
Thanks, Anna!
See you guys at the launch!
See what she can accomplish when she puts her mind to it.
She couldn't have done it without you.
Oh, I don't deserve all the credit.
You deserve more than you think.
Yeah, I probably do.
Thank you for walking me home.
You are tres gallant.
I am indeed.
You know, I've never had wine that good before.
Tell me, does everything taste a little better
if it's had some time to age?
Good night, Taylor.
Wait. What are you doing?
A little something I learned in Rio.
I think there has been a misunderstanding.
Good night, Taylor.
Oh.
This is about me!
Are you eating cake?
This isn't about me.
This is about me!
It's only a few stories about some funny things that you did.
It's not funny, it's humiliating.
Especially when you take it out of context,
like the one about me wearing your blouse to dinner.
I still don't know
how could you have made that mistake.
Exactly.
I just had a new prescription filled,
I had spent all morning at the dentist,
so I was all woozy-
that's context.
Just think about Millie.
You've helped her feel good about herself as a writer.
She did follow through on a goal.
Maybe now she can put this novel business behind her.
Stick this in your stupid pipe and choke on it, jerko!
The first two chapters of my novel
and they're awesome!
I'd love to read it.
Oh, I bet you would,
but you're going to have to buy one off the shelf after it gets published.
Well, if you can get your hands on one.
It's probably going to be a best-seller.
I'll alert the Giller Committee.
Good.
Who's that? You suck.
Okay, everyone, we're going to get started.
Thank you for coming to our annual book launch.
We have three top authors here to read,
so relax, have a glass of wine and enjoy.
What the hell, have lots of wine!
Maybe you'll buy more books!
Anyway, without further ado,
please allow me to present award-winning Chef
and author of "Chez berger," Denise Berger.
Bonjour. When I began my research...
Just look at her up there.
As if she didn't cut my heart out last night.
Keep your voice down. I won't let you ruin this.
Denise is reading,
Millie and Thurman are being civil to each other.
I'm sorry,
but you have to admit,
that is some kinda woman.
I thought you said she was too old.
Don't you say that about 'niesey!
She might be up there in years,
but she's younger in spirit than you or I will ever be.
That doesn't make any sense.
What doesn't make sense, Joyce? Me or love?
Both.
Now get out of here and pull yourself together.
Damn hip breaker.
Merci et bon appetit!
That was wonderful.
And now, to take you
from mouth-watering to spine chilling,
please welcome top-selling mystery author
Thurman Benz.
Thank you, thank you.
Sure, on the page,
a guy losing his pants is funny,
but in the moment, it's terrifying.
Relax, Stan.
It's a couple of chapters in a novel she'll never finish
and nobody will ever read.
Before I begin,
my associate, Millie Upton,
has just announced that she has a new novel in the works,
and I bet we can coax her into coming up here
and reading us a couple of chapters.
Millie!
Oh, no.
They're out of bean dip.
Millie! They all want to hear your new novel.
Don't disappoint them.
Who sucks now?
You. Still you.
This is a story
about someone I have known for a very, very-
You can't read that!
I wasn't gonna,
but old tobacco breath there forced my hand.
But Stan read some of the pages
and his feelings are hurt.
Aw, man...
Millie? Is something wrong?
No.
She was just telling me that my fly was open.
Just getting all organized here.
This is a story about no one that I,
or any of you, know.
And it certainly isn't about anyone in this room.
Many people have trouble with their pants
from time to time.
But to others,
pants are an endless source of adventure,
and this...
Is the story of Rubicon Jones,
an intergalactic space courier
who delivers pants to various quadrant of the Garment Sector
in the Nebula galaxy.
Hello, Taylor.
Oh, hey.
Listen, about last night.
I'm so sorry if I have mislead you.
Pfff... misled.
Good. So we can still be friends?
Who would want to be anything more?
Okay, what was that?
Excuse-moi?
You want to be friends,
and then you're all over me with your lips
like a sucker fish.
Taylor, I think you are a wonderful man,
but you are too young for me.
Age shouldn't have anything to do with it.
I've always said that.
Okay.
Let's do it!
Really?
Come with me to Paris.
Or better still, I could move here-
I could move in with you and be with you always.
Ohh. Yeah...
When you said "do it,"
I thought you meant "do it."
"Take that!"
And holstered his lightning-rod slingshot.
Oh, for-
Denise! Hey!
Joyce...
Thank you so much for everything.
Could you say goodbye to Taylor for me?
He's hiding in the bathroom.
Why?
He...
Was falling for me, so I had to scare him away.
Commitment?
Mais oui.
Ah, the player has been played. Tres bien.
"Take that, Rubicon Jack!"
I thought his name was Rubicon Jones.
Oh, he changes that...
To avoid...
You find out in chapter two- thank you.
Well, wasn't that something?
Well, why don't we shift gears and read something interesting.
Oh, my new thriller...
Boo!
Well, that was delightful.
Okay, Benz, you're right, you're a better writer than me.
You can thrill, and rivet,
and suspend people with your fancy novels.
But there's something you can't do...
What?
Please welcome back Millie Upton.
You can't do that.
Who here would like to hear a story?
Me!
You have sauce on your pants.
Aw, jeez.
And who do we have here?
Oh. Come to rub it in some more?
This is my son, Jacob.
Can I have an autograph?
Your books are the best.
Really?
They're awesome!
Daddy's books are boring, though.
A lot of grown-ups love your dad's books.
Truth is, your dad's a really good writer.
Really?
Mm-hmm. He's just a terrible human being.
Now run along, scamp.
Missy Grumpaloo was excited to meet her hero,
Fantastic Fredaloo,
until she discovered
that Fredaloo made himself feel fantastic
by making everyone else feel miserable.
So Missy called her good friend, Rubicon Jones,
and his sidekick,
a super smart chimp named Rubicon Jack,
who used their space ray
to disintegrate Fredaloo's pants in front of everybody.
And he was so embarrassed, he never bothered anyone again.
Sync & corrections by Alice www.addic7ed.com